


learn to swim on the way down

by saysthemagpie



Category: Dunkirk (2017), One Direction (Band)
Genre: First Time, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Shame, Sharing a Bed, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 13:41:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15025862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saysthemagpie/pseuds/saysthemagpie
Summary: tommy and alex on leave, sharing a bed.





	learn to swim on the way down

**Author's Note:**

> cleaned up a bit & extended from a tumblr prompt. no plot, just Gay Feelings.

"Ever had your cock sucked?” Alex says, low. 

There's a thrill in speaking the words aloud, seeing how much they'll shock Tommy. 

Tommy doesn’t disappoint. In the darkness of their little room, their faces are near enough that Alex can practically feel him flush, heat rising in his cheeks. 

"I - what?" he stammers. 

"Just wondering, mate," Alex says. "Just making conversation." 

He shifts a little, like he's trying to get comfortable. The bed's lumpy enough that it's believable; narrow enough that there's nowhere for Tommy to go when their legs brush against each other under the blankets. 

"Been ages since I had a girl," he says. "Since - Christ, since before I shipped out, I reckon." 

There's a wariness in Tommy's silence, like he's waiting for a trap to spring. Alex can tell he's listening, though. 

"Took her dancing," he says. "Can't remember her name - Helen, maybe - but Christ, mate, the tits on her. And that _mouth_." 

He groans like he's remembering. ”Kept telling me she was a nice girl, really, and it was just on account of me going off to fight the Jerries. Knew what she was doing, though. Knew her way around a cock." 

Tommy says nothing. But this time he's the one who shifts, like he can't settle. 

"Christ, I'd kill for a mouth like that right about now," Alex murmurs. "Bloody sick of my right hand." 

Tommy swallows. "Yeah," he says, voice rough. "Know what you mean."

Alex shifts onto his side, stretching the length of his body out alongside him. He lets his gaze rake over Tommy's body, sliding downwards, lingering. He can feel Tommy watching.

"Ever sucked a cock?" he says casually. 

He feels the shock of the words register, Tommy stilling beside him. Alex's heart is beating faster, hard enough that he wonders if Tommy can hear it. 

"Come on, mate," he says. "You can tell me." 

“Haven't," Tommy mumbles. 

He doesn’t look at Alex. But he doesn't pull away, either, or shove him off. Doesn't draw back when Alex touches him, fingertips sliding along the line of his jaw. 

“Shame,” Alex murmurs. “Mouth like yours. Made for it, innit?"

It’s the kind of thing men used to say to him before, when the roles were reversed. Words murmured hotly against his ear in seedy pubs, in public toilets, the kinds of places you only went if you were looking.

He wonders if the words had come more naturally to them, all those faceless men who had taught him how to touch and be touched, how to be quiet and furtive in the dark. Until now it had never occurred to him that the words might have felt just as wooden in their mouths as they do in his, a poor substitute for the things he could never say. Not to someone like Tommy. 

_Stay. Don’t leave me. Want this like I do._

Tommy looks at him, his eyes wide and dark. He reminds Alex of a frightened animal, body stiff and trembling on the edge of flight. 

"Come here," Alex says. "I'll show you how." 

  


In his arms Tommy's quiet, almost childlike in his docility. He keeps his eyes shut, breathing shallowly against Alex's shoulder. Unobserved, Alex lets himself look: at the sweep of Tommy's eyelashes and the dusting of freckles across his nose, the skin under his eyes dark as a bruise. He's careful with him, or tries to be, stroking the hair back from his eyes in a clumsy approximation of gentleness. 

He works Tommy's trousers open, licking his palm wet. When he curls his fingers around him, skin to hot skin, Tommy makes a soft sound. Some of the tension seems to ease from him, as if the worst has happened, now, and all that remains is to bear it. 

Alex strokes him like that, close and hot. The only indication of pleasure is the way the fine muscles around Tommy's eyes tense, and then, after a little while, the gentle parting of his lips, the slight unevenness of his breath. Alex's gaze never leaves his face; it's better, almost, only to feel him, the hot press of him against his palm, slick now even without spit.

"Close," Tommy murmurs. 

Something surges in Alex's chest. 

"Could - if you want," he breathes. "Could fuck me." 

Tommy jerks away, eyes flying open.

"I - I'm not," he says, a note of panic in his voice. He tries to sit up, but Alex, the stronger of them, wrestles him to the mattress and pins him there. There's a brief struggle, Tommy writhing beneath him, hot and half naked, as Alex yanks his pants down around his hips. "Fuck," he chokes out, hips bucking in surprise when Alex swallows him down, "bloody - _hell_ ," and then he groans, long and low, the sound wrenched out of him. 

Alex uses every trick he's learned, uses his mouth and his hands and the soft inner flesh of his cheek. If Tommy closes his eyes again it'll feel no different from a bird's; a mouth is a mouth, isn't it, and from the sounds Tommy's making, the little gasps, the soft moans, he'll come just the same. His face is hot with shame, but he tries to focus on the weight of Tommy’s cock on his tongue, the stretch in his jaw, an ache he’ll be feeling tomorrow. Not the ache he’s been craving, but it’ll do. It’ll have to, even if he feels so desperate for something more he could cry. 

They won’t have leave again for months. Even if he manages to survive that long he can't fool himself into thinking Tommy will let him this close again. He's played his hand too soon, shown just how eager he is for it. Tommy might even warn the rest of their company. Not in so many words, maybe, but there’s other ways of making that sort of thing known. A casual remark here, an insinuating glance there. Tommy's the type who looks out for his friends.

Alex chokes. Has to pull off for a second, breath catching in his throat like a sob. He’s been careful, so bloody careful, and he’d thought - he’d been sure there was something. 

“That - what you said.” Tommy’s voice sounds strained. “What you wanted - ”

“Forget it," Alex says, not looking at him. 

"I've never," Tommy blurts out, and stops, swallowing. "Not - with a girl even, I've never - " 

He breaks off. 

Alex can't lift his head, hope yawning in him like an abyss. In the quiet of their little room, all he can hear is the blood pounding in his ears, his heart beating out a frantic rhythm. _Stay. Don't leave me. Want this like I do._

Something brushes lightly against his temple. Tommy's touch is hesitant, fingers stroking his hair.

"Show me,” he says. "Show me how."

**Author's Note:**

> fic tumblr is [here](http://saysthemagpie.tumblr.com).


End file.
